


Christmas in Berlin

by MelanieQuinlan



Category: Pet Shop Boys
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Smut, Established Relationship, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:39:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29820906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelanieQuinlan/pseuds/MelanieQuinlan
Summary: It's Christmas, Neil is getting a cold and due to bad weather their flight back to London gets cancelled. Having an unexpected day to themselves turns out to be not too bad.
Relationships: Chris Lowe/Neil Tennant
Kudos: 9





	Christmas in Berlin

Christmas in Berlin

“Remind me again why we're here three hours early,” Neil grumbled as he bottomed up his new Burberry coat. It was herringbone and while he thought of it as being of a timeless elegance, Chris had roared with laughter the first time he'd worn it earlier that morning. “Don't wear it for a photo shoot,” he'd sniggered. “That is the official 'I'm an old bloke now' look.”

“Because I still have to buy Christmas presents. What's wrong with that? There are plenty of shops around. You don't normally mind a bit of extra shopping, why are you complaining now?”

“I'm not complaining,” Neil turned up the collar of his coat and shoved his hand into its pockets. “Just look at the place! It's packed to bursting! There are fucking queues everywhere! They all play those infernal songs and all these people pushing and shoving drive me bloody insane!”

Chris stopped walking, hung his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Fine! Then I'll do the shopping on my own! No fun having you around if you're in grumpy git mood. Go, find some fancy restaurant or wait in the Lounge for all I care.” With that he stormed off, leaving Neil behind in the busy hall. 

Neil sighed and tried to follow but it was no good. The crowd was so thick, it took less than a minute for Chris to vanish from view. “Damn it,” Neil cursed and glared at some passer-by who had pushed against his shoulder by accident. “Find some fancy restaurant,” he muttered to himself as he continued to push his way through the crowd. “You damn well know there aren't any around here!”

He found a bistro that wasn't too packed and waited in the queue in front of the counter. Did he even want anything from the self-service buffet? Maybe a small salad would do. And some wine. Yes, definitely some wine. For one, he wasn't going to queue twice and second, he was just in the right mood to get hammered. A slight headache had begun to annoy him. He shivered and wished he'd worn his old, padded anorak instead of that new coat. 

It seemed like ages but finally it was his turn and when he'd paid, tried his best to balance his tray across the room to a free table in a corner. Luggage trolleys and push chairs blocked the aisles and made it difficult to navigate a way through the chaos. He breathed a sigh of relief when he sank down on his chair, took off his scarf and placed the coat of the armrest of a spare chair. There, that was better! At least they had the heat turned up and no Christmas music on. Neil poured himself a glass of wine. Predictably it wasn't very good. It was slightly sour and didn't in the slightest taste of cloves and smoky oak, as the label had promised. Neil grimaced as he sat his glass down next to his plate and began to poke around his salad. At least that was more or less alright but then again one couldn't really mess up a simple mixed salad. The walnuts on top were actually quite nice even.

Half an hour passed. 45 minutes. Still no sign of Chris. Neil sighed and poured another glass of wine, his third already. The taste didn't get any better the more he drank, but it had served to increase his headache. It also made him rather hot but that was better than freezing all the time. An hour passed. Then another 15 minutes and finally his mobile beeped. Chris had deigned to text him after all! Neil found his phone in one of the inner pockets of his coat and read the message, which had indeed come from Chris. “Shopping all done. Where the hell are you?”

Neil shook his head in disbelieve and typed in the name of the bistro. That was just so typically Chris! He stormed off and then offered no word of apology. Neil pushed his wine glass to the other side of the table. He'd lost the taste for it completely. Maybe getting hammered before their flight back to London hadn't been such a splendid idea after all. He spotted Chris less than 10 minutes later, as he was making his way to the entrance of the bistro. He appeared to be in a jolly good mood, whistling under his breath and skipping when people got in his way. On top of the little hold-all in which he'd tossed all his personal belongings – a second pair of sunglasses, iPhone, iPad, latest edition of MixMax magazine, cough drops, paper handkerchiefs and god knew what else – about ten minutes before the taxi taking them to the airport was due, Chris was carrying a bunch of plastic bags. Most were fairly small, but one was rather large and Neil found himself wondering what on earth Chris had bought.

“There you are,” Chris said as he dropped the bags to the floor and slipped onto the spare chair. “Wine before lunch?” He teased. “Where're your principles, Mister T.?”

Neil rolled his eyes. “I'm getting too old for principles. Besides, we've broken every rule we ever came up with for ourselves, so why should I struggle with those?”

“You really are in a mood today,” Chris eyed Neil in a suspicious way but when his partner didn't reply, went on: “So, you mean we've toured, played festivals, did a charity record...”

“Make that two. Well, if you count the Christmas single with The Killers and Elton.”

“No, no, that doesn't count. That wasn't Pet Shop Boys,” Chris protested. “That was just you.”

“Well, then... We even headlined Live Aid.”

“In Moscow! That's different!”

“It was still Live Aid! I'm only glad we didn't have to shake hands with Sir Bob for publicity photographs. Imagine the shame! The guys at Smash Hits used to slag him off so much.”

“We've even smiled in pictures,” Chris pointed out. He took a sip off Neil's discarded wine and pulled a face. “Yikes, that's not wine, that vinegar! No wonder that you're in a mood.”

“I'm not in a mood! It's just... I'm tired, I'm cold and I've got this headache.”

“Well, don't drink before lunch, that's what I'm saying,” Chris said sweetly, then rose to his feet. “Come on, let's go over to the lounge. The seats are more comfy there. Plus, they've got Wi-Fi.”

Neil put on his coat and they gathered up their stuff. On their way to the First-Class Lounge, he said: “And now we're doing this New Year's Eve thing. To be honest, I'm not sure if it was such a good idea to agree to it.”

“Why's that? You liked the idea of going on at the stroke of midnight. Not to mention that we'll be performing in front of the Brandenburg Gate. It'll be live on German telly, watched by millions.”

“I know, I know,” Neil sighed. He pushed his glasses back up his nose. “We did the bloody Olympics and what good did it do? All the singles failed to chart, half of the fans hate Elysium and...”

“Half of the fans that troll around on the internet, on some ghastly forum or worse, on Facebook,” Chris interjected. “In the old days they would've written protest letter to the fan club. On a roll of toilet paper. Come on, you're taking those idiots seriously?”

“I don't,” Neil said quietly.

“But?” Chris nudged him in the ribs. “Come on, the way you say it, it's clear as crystal that there's a but.”

“But,” Neil put great emphasis on the one word, then paused. He stopped walking and faced Chris. “It's annoying that even Absolutely Fabulous did better than all the last two singles put together!”

Chris laughed. “That was the 90s! Remember, when there still was Top of the Pops and Smash Hits and all that.”

“I know, times change and all. I just don't like the fact that we...”

“... went officially down the dumper chart-wise? As you would've put it in your journalist days.”

Neil didn't even laugh. He simply nodded. “Yes. That's exactly it.”

Chris shrugged his shoulders. “Don't think it doesn't bother me as well. It does. But what can you do? The songs are bloody good, that's all I know. And stuff like the BBC concert and the Turing Project are just fantastic.”

“Yes, they are. It's odd though, isn't it? We get offered all those prestigious things, deliver them to critical acclaim and then our pop records fail miserably.”

“Oh, stop it now,” Chris poked his tongue out at Neil. “You're depressing me! I don't wanna be depressed when I'm heading home for Christmas.”

“Sorry,” Neil mumbled as they found a quiet corner in the lounge. He sat down in an armchair and ran a hand over his head. “Must be that bloody headache. Maybe I just dose until our flight is called.”

“You do that,” Chris nodded his agreement as he sat down in the armchair next to Neil. “Where do I put my jacket now?” He complained but then tossed it onto a third armchair nearby. “Don't you wanna get out of your coat? It's fucking hot in here.”

“No, I'm fine,” Neil answered. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. “Wake me when we can board.”

“No, I just let you sleep and go home alone.”

That comment made Neil smile. “I always suspect that one day you will,” he replied.

Chris glanced over his shoulder. There was no-one watching them, so he leaned close and gave Neil a quick peck on the cheek. “Like hell I will.”

**********

“Wake up. Come on, Neil, wake up.” It was Chris's voice close to his ear and it wasn't exactly whispering. Okay, it wasn't yelling either, but the volume was just loud enough to remind him of his headache with renewed force. Neil blinked, yawned wildly and sat up straight. “Boarding time already?” He asked and was about to reach for his own little bag when Chris placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head.

“Nope, I'm afraid not. We're delayed. For at least two hours, they say.”

“Oh no,” Neil yawned again and winced slightly as he climbed back to his feet to stretch. “Why's that? When I last looked there wasn't any snow.”

“Still isn't,” Chris said and grinned. “You won't bloody believe it. Apparently, it's too fucking foggy over London to attempt a landing.”

“Foggy?” Neil repeated, disbelieve and annoyance clearly written over his face. Then he caught sight of the face Chris was pulling and burst out laughing.

“I know,” Chris sighed, scratched the back of his head and rolled his eyes. “It's just so typical. With our luck we'll get icy rain on New Year's Eve.” Neil's laughter had turned into a cough. “That doesn't sound too good,” Chris observed. “Don't dare to lose your voice before the year's over, mister!”

“Won't matter if I did,” Neil managed to say. “Y'know, it's all on tape anyway.” They both laughed but again Neil broke into a fit of coughs.

“Stay here, sit down and keep warm,” Chris ordered. “I'll go and get you something from the pharmacy. Something like Beecham's. Do you remember what they call them 'round here?”

Neil shook his head. He sank back onto his chair. “No. Just ask them. They all speak English here anyway.”

“Tell me news,” Chris muttered as he reached for his jacket. “Anything else?”

“No, thanks.” Neil watched as Chris walked out of the lounge and back into the bustle of the airport. To catch a cold the day before Christmas really was the worst timing of all. God, why did he feel like shit if it was just a bloody little cold? Achy joints and that awful heartache, a sore throat and now even the coughs. He'd hoped to be able to ignore the worst of it until they were back home. 

Home! Neil sighed. If only they were there already! He longed for a few quiet days with only family and friends around and some hours that would belong to just him and Chris. Those had been rare enough during the past year. L.A., promotion, the Olympics, back to the studio for various projects, more promotion, the BBC concert and now... A midnight performance to end 2012 with. It all sounded very grand, if you thought about it that way, Neil mused. Then why did he have such mixed emotions? Why was he torn between feeling proud and like a total failure? Why did it bug him so much to see the chart go on without them?

“Let's face it,” he told himself. “We're both getting old. Our audience consists of middle-aged people who grew up seeing us on Top of the Pops. And the pop charts is a young man's game. Always has been, always will be.”

He had fallen so deep into his brooding thoughts that he only realized that Chris was back, when a shadow fell over him. He looked up and saw his friend shrugging out of his jacket. “You won't believe how thick the crowds are,” he said with a sigh and handed Neil a bag. “It's like the sales on Oxford Street out there.” He sat down next to Neil. “Got you some medication, bottle of still water, those lemon drops you like and a copy of The Guardian.”

“Thanks,” Neil smiled at this partner. He took two of the anti-flu tablets and drank down half of his water. “And sorry about earlier. It didn't mean to be difficult or anything.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chris made a dismissive motion with his hand and picked up another bag off the floor. “Shut up and have one of these.” He handed Neil a plastic cup of coffee, took out a small box and placed it on the armrest between them and took another cup of coffee himself. “One's a Gingerbread Latte and the other's the Peppermint Mocha. Which one do you want?”

“The Peppermint Mocha, if you don't mind. The other one's too sweet for my taste.”

“Right,” Chris carefully took the lid off his cup and sniffed the contents. “Gotta swap then.” They exchanged cups. “Oh, and there are some cinnamon rolls and snowmen cookies, too.”

“Lovely,” Neil said in a deadpan voice and reached for a cinnamon roll. “And all because it's foggy in London.”

They both giggled and then began to chat as they dug into their cookies and drinks. It was nearly three-quarters of an hour later that Chris was collecting all the paper napkins, the empty cups and leftovers, when an announcement came through the speakers: “...that the British Airways flight to London Heathrow has been cancelled due to bad weather conditions at the destination.”

“They didn't just say that our flight's got cancelled?” Neil asked. He shot Chris a quizzical look and smiled as he caught the string of curses that Chris was muttering under his breath. “I'll go and ask about the next flight.”

“Oh no, you stay here. I'll go. Can't have you catch a chill when you've already got a cold.”

“It's just a cold,” Neil protested. “I won't kill me, you know?”

“Yeah, right. But you're not...”

“If you're gonna say: not as young as you used to be, your Christmas presents will go straight to the Charity Shop,” Neil muttered.

“...not as resilient as you used to be,” Chris continued. “Hey, no need to look that outraged. I'm the same. A hangover these days is like ten times worse compared to what it was like back in the day.”

“Sad but true,” Neil agreed and crossed his arms in front of this chest. “Alright, I'll wait here.”  
He leaned back on his chair and closed his eyes. Those pills were making him sleepy, even though they were meant to have the opposite effect. 

Again, he was woken my someone gently shaking him by the shoulder. This time he found it much harder to wake up and open his eyes. He felt groggy and had a hard time figuring out where he was. He blinked up at Chris, who stood over him, a thrown etched into his forehead and finally remembered. Berlin. The airport. The flight back to London got cancelled.

“You okay?” Chris asked.

Neil nodded. He didn't feel okay. Not really. Granted, he'd felt worse, but it was bad enough. God, he hated having a cold.

“We're out of luck,” Chris said after a moment. “All the flights to London have been cancelled for now. All over Germany. And from Amsterdam as well. They reckon the first flights will leave again in the early morning but those are all fully booked already so no change to a seat on one of those. Even with First Class and all the rest of it, the next flight we can get is on Tuesday.”

“Tuesday?” Neil asked in a hoarse voice. Damn, his throat felt like it was covered with sandpaper. That's Christmas Day!”

“I know, I know,” Chris sighed. “I'm not happy about that either.” He threw Neil a concerned look, then reached his hand out and briefly touched his friend's forehead. “You're running a fever,” he muttered. “Better get you to bed now.”

“I'm fine!” Neil protested but the next fit of coughs proved him wrong. Chris handed him the water bottle and he emptied it gratefully. He shivered as he climbed to feet and stood for a second, looking at Chris while he tried to gather his thoughts. “And now?”

Chris shrugged his shoulders. “We go back to the flat. You go to bed; I watch some football and tomorrow we decide what we do.”

*********

“If you need anything, just give me a shout,” Chris said as he stood by the door. Neil only nodded. Frankly, he was too exhausted to speak, even though all he'd done that day was sit around and wait. “Good night,” Chris smiled at him before he turned the lights off.

“'Night,” Neil muttered. Everything went dark around him as Chris closed the door. Neil could hear his footsteps for a moment and smiled to himself. As long as he could hear Chris's footsteps in the dark and knew he was going to be there when he woke up, all was well. He pulled the blanket up to his chin and closed his eyes. Tired. He was so damn tired. If he slept, maybe he wouldn't feel half as rough in the morning. Maybe, because it was Christmas Eve in the morning. All the presents he'd bought for Chris were in his flat in London. So even if they got stuck in Berlin over the holidays, he had nothing to give to Chris. The thought made Neil just a little bit sad, even though they both were no children and would not be heartbroken if Christmas Day passed without any presents.

“Maybe we can do something silly together instead,” Neil thought sleepily. “Like trying out that Ice Rink or...”

He was sound asleep before he could even finish the thought.

**********

When he woke again, pale light fell through the windows. The curtains had been drawn back, so Neil could see that the sky was grey. It didn't seem to be raining and Neil thought that was some small mercy. He yawned and sat up. He didn't feel too bad. His nose was blocked, and his throat still hurt but the temperature had gone down enough so that his head no longer felt like it had been stuffed with cotton-balls. He frowned when his foot hit against something wobbly at the end of the bed. Neil pulled back the blanket and chuckled as he spotted the hot-water-bottle. He couldn't recall having taken one to bed the previous day but then again, he hadn't been thinking too clearly then.

He climbed out of bed, yawned again and stretched. Okay, he was still aching all over, but it was more bearable somehow. He found his slippers and put them on, then went over to the window and opened it. He took a few deep breaths and for a moment enjoyed the feel of the cool air on his face but when he began to shiver, closed the window at once. He glanced at the alarm clock on his bedside table and whistled through his teeth. “10 o'clock? Blimey, I slept for more than 12 hours! Must've been out cold,” he muttered to himself and left the bedroom. Noise, as if from a running TV, greeted him, so he went to the living room. He stopped dead in his tracks when he pushed open the door and just stared at the scene before him.

There was a huge Christmas tree in the middle of the room, all decked out with blinking lights, tinsel, ornaments and some spray-on snow. A small pile of boxes, wrapped in brightly coloured paper, had found its way underneath it. Garlands of red and green tinsel framed the doors and a huge branch of mistletoe hung from the lamp. Festive music blared through the room as the TV had been switched to some kind of countdown show, celebrating Germany's favourite Christmas songs. Yet there was no sign of Chris. Neil shook his head and grinned. The Christmas tree hadn't been there when they'd left the day before, so Chris must've arranged it all in the few hours since they got back to the flat.

“Just what do you think you're doing here, wearing just your pyjamas?” Chris's voice asked from behind him. It made Neil jump just a little but before he could turn around, arms wrapped around his chest and pulled him close. Chris kissed his neck and then stood in front of him, hand on hips, scowling. Neil laughed. “A good morning to you, too.”

Chris's face expression softened. “Morning. How do you feel?”

“Better,” Neil said. “The temperature seems to have gone down. The rest is just a bloody cold.”

“Good,” Chris beamed. “Would’ve been too bad if you'd been really ill over Christmas. Now get dressed before you catch another chill.”

Neil laughed. “Who would've thought that you could be such a mother hen, hmm?”

“Oh, shut up!”

“The tree's really lovely, by the way.” Neil took Chris's hand and kissed it softly. “Thanks. For the tree and for trying to cheer me up.”

“It's all self-protection really,” Chris muttered. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and squirmed a little. “When you're in a mood, you're unbearable so I had to do something against that.”

“Wise words from the king of being moody,” Neil chuckled. “I'll go and take a shower. Is there any coffee to be had around here after that?”

“Yep, I've done some shopping. There's coffee and stuff to cook lunch with later. I thought we could stay in and just laze around,” Chris explained with a grin.

Neil caught a certain gleam in his partner's eyes and grinned as well. “Sounds like a plan. I was hoping for a bit of peace and quiet over the holidays. Not quite like that, but what can you do?”

“Empty days and breathing space, huh?” Chris teased. “Oh, and I've phoned up everybody. Like Susan and Vicky and even Kev. They all know we're stuck here for now. As soon as we figured out how and when we get home, I'll sent Vicky a text and she'll inform everybody else.”

“I should be indisposed more often,” Neil mused. “I like it when you take over and make all the decisions.”

“Didn't you want to take a shower?” Chris asked and pointed down the corridor in the direction of the bathroom.

“Yes, dear. I will. How about now?”

“Good boy,” Chris gave Neil a pat on the shoulder and as she walked past him, a quick slap on the bum.

“Hey!” Neil exclaimed in mock protest. “What was that for?”

“Just thinking... Why dontcha run a bath instead?”

Neil looked at Chris and nodded slowly. “Good idea.”

“Okay, then get cracking. I have some bags standing 'round the kitchen that need unpacking. And fast, before the stuff melts or spoils.” With that Chris walked away and left Neil standing in the corridor.

Neil watched Chris turn a corner and disappear from view. He heard him singing along to the latest song in the countdown – a German version of Silent Night. Neil glanced back over his shoulder. On the TV screen a man dressed very sharply in a suit and bow tie was surrounded by at least a dozen boys, who were all dressed up nicely in black trousers, shiny white shirts and bow ties. 

“Some boys’ choir,” Neil thought. “Maybe from Dresden. Although... no, not likely. This footage looks like it's from the 70s. Germany was still divided back then and the cold war in full swing. No choir from the east would've been allowed to appear on capitalist TV.” He watched for a moment longer. He caught the singer's name as the presenter of the show went on talking about songs that had not made the countdown. “Peter Alexander, never heard of him,” Neil thought. “Whoever he was, he had a nice voice. Mum would've liked him.” The thought took him by surprise and for a moment he felt like crying. He still missed his parents so much. Christmas without them felt odd. He hung his head as he finally walked over to the bathroom. Chris was still singing and whistling along. This time it was to the unavoidable White Christmas. Neil found himself smiling. He drew a deep breath and squared his shoulders. No use being gloomy on Christmas Eve.

“I'm lucky, really,” he thought as he began to run the bath. “Chris is here. We have each other and our families and friends. That's quite a lot.” He began to strip out of his pyjamas and shivered slightly as he waited for the tub to fill up. He poured some bathing foam, waited a few moments and then turned the water off. He sighed contently as he sank into the hot water. That felt nice. He soaped himself up and enjoyed the feeling of being clean again. Then he leaned back and closed his eyes. It was easy to let his thoughts drift like that. Chris's singing floated over to him and he felt cosy and at peace.

“Coffee's ready,” Chris called out some time later. Neil blinked and yawned. He must've dozed a little because he hadn't realized how cool the water had become. He shivered slightly, sat up and pulled the plug. He washed the foam off his skin and climbed out of the tub. The door opened, and Chris came in, holding up a towel for him to take. When Neil reached for it, he realized it was pleasantly warm.

“Oh, you put it on the heater for me. How come you're spoiling me today?”

Chris shrugged his shoulders. “You know, it's Christmas after all. There, let me help.” He took the towel from Neil's hands and began to rub him dry. When he was done, he wrapped the towel around Neil's shoulders.

“Hmm, that was nice. You could go on like that forever. Unless...,” Neil paused and kissed Chris.

“I'm beginning to see your point,” Chris muttered after a moment. He kissed back, holding Neil close by the corners of the towel. Neil's hands came to rest against his chest, gently moving over the fabric of this jumper. He moaned softly and closed his eyes. What better way to start Christmas? The kiss went on for what seemed like forever, lazy and slow and intense at the same time. Chris's mouth tasted of chocolate and coffee and oranges and it made Neil smile. Only when a shiver passed through him, did Chris break the kiss. He stepped back and gave him that worried look again. Before he could ask, Neil said: “I'm fine. I'm not cold, it's just...”

Chris studied him intently for a moment, then broke out into a huge grin. “Bedroom?” He suggested.

Neil nodded and followed Chris out of the bathroom and down the corridor. He watched as Chris pulled his jumper, along with the T-shirt he wore underneath, over his head and tossed it to the floor. Next his jeans came off. They slid down Chris's thin legs and pooled around his ankles before Chris stepped out of them. Before he'd reached the bed, he'd taken off his briefs and socks and Neil found he was feeling pretty hot all of a sudden. Why was it that he never got enough off just looking at Chris when he was in the nude? Why did he adore that skinny bloke so much?

Chris fluffed up the pillows and the blanket, tossed the hot-water-bottle out and sat down on the mattress. “Come here,” he ordered softly. Neil was only too happy to comply, so he slipped underneath the covers and lay down next to Chris. His towel had been discarded somewhere along the way. Chris lay down as well and pulled the blanket over them. He snuggled close to Neil and stroked his face. “Don't worry so much,” he said in a soft voice. “We'll be fine.”  
“I know,” Neil replied. He reached out and stroked Chris's face as well. “I know. And now shut up and kiss me again.”

Chris did and this time the kiss didn't stay slow and lazy for long. Yet they took their time and enjoyed the little touches and caresses they shared. Legs became intertwined, arms wrapped around shoulders and still the kiss went on. It was almost better than the sex itself as it expressed everything they never found the words to say to each other. 

In the end the need for oxygen broke the kiss. They both laughed at how they were gasping for air. “Fish out of water,” Chris mumbled, and Neil giggled. He began to pepper Chris's face and shoulders with little kisses. Chris kissed and licked down Neil's throat, making him moan and shiver. They kissed again, while hands roamed over naked skin, fingers tweaked at nipples and mouths left wet trails behind.

“Are you up for a bit more action?” Chris whispered into Neil's ear. Neil nodded and shuddered as the hot breath brushed against his skin. “Oh yes. I'm very up,” he muttered.

Chris giggled. He let his hand wander down to cup the evidence that proved the truth of Neil's statement. “Very up indeed,” Chris grinned as he wrapped his fingers around Neil's erection and began to stroke. Slowly and gently at first but then faster and faster.

“Oh yes, go on,” Neil begged. His eyelids fluttered and closed, and he moaned as Chris flicked his thumb over the sensitive tip of his shaft. “Oh! Yes..., please...” Neil had no idea what he was asking for, but it didn't matter. Chris seemed to have an idea or two, at least he sat back and began to stroke himself. Neil watched, mesmerized. He half wished Chris would continue to pump him but on the other hand watching Chris touching himself was too hot a sight to be missed. When he couldn't ignore the need to either touch Chris or himself anymore, he drew up his legs and spread them a little. Chris swallowed hard and moaned as he watched. “You're sure?”

Neil only nodded. Chris grinned. He reached for the drawer in the bedside table and found the lube. He poured some into the palm of his hand and coated his own hard dick with a slick layer.  
He poured some more and began to prepare Neil. He took his time and ignored Neil's curses when he refused to hurry up. He liked to see the old boy lose control, so see him tremble and moan and beg. Oh yes, he liked that very much! When he couldn't think of more methods to prolong the procedure, Chris knelt between Neil's spread legs, grabbed them by the ankles and placed them on his shoulders. He wiggled closer to Neil until he had found the perfect fucking position. He pushed and poked and felt a shiver run down his spine when he began to slip inside. He went as slowly as he could and even when he was fully inside, settled on a slow, lazy rhythm that matched their earlier kisses. He bent down, resting his weight on his hands next to Neil's head. Neil's arms wrapped around him. He pulled him down for another kiss, this one hungry and impatient. Chris shivered and squeezed his eyes shut. This was bliss, wasn't it? To make love to someone you've know half of your life. Someone he knew inside out. Someone who still managed to surprise him every now and then. Someone... Not, not just someone. Neil. No-one else but Neil.

Later, as they lay panting next to each other, shoulders touching, holding hands, they weren't able to tell who'd come first. They'd been so tangled up in each other that it was hard to say. Not that it mattered. When the afterglow of the orgasm had receded enough that Neil felt like he was able to move and speak again, he rolled onto his side, pulled the blanket up around them and placed a kiss on the tip of Chris's nose. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered.

“Oh yeah, Merry Christmas to you, too.” Chris kissed Neil's forehead, then lay back and yawned. “How about lunch in a bit?”

Neil laughed and punched him playfully. “Some things never change, eh?”

“Nope,” Chris agreed. He smiled happily. “I've got lamb chops in the fridge as well as some green beans and small new potatoes. And some wine that ought to be better than the one you had yesterday.”

“What? You wanna cook yourself? Not going out to some fancy restaurant for a change?”

“Yeah. Well, I didn't know if you'd be up to getting dressed and eating out, so I went shopping. To the Kaufhaus des Westens, even. Plus, I thought it might be nice to spend a lazy day here, just you and me.”

Neil smiled and kissed Chris on the mouth. “You can be such a sweetheart.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chris grumbled. “Don't tell anyone.”

Neil chuckled. “I hate to spoil the mood but those lamb chops sound tempting. I'm starving!”

“Small wonder. You missed both dinner and breakfast.” Chris sighed. He sat up. “Alright then. Lunch!”

“Wait a minute,” Neil called out as Chris began to collect his clothes from the floor. “Did you book the flight on Tuesday already?”

Chris looked up and shook his head. “No. Sorry about that. I wasn't sure if you'd be fit enough to travel.”

“That's fine,” Neil assured him and got up. He put on some underwear and socks and a pair of jeans before he turned to face Chris. “Is there a flight on Wednesday?”

“There must be. Why?”

“Oh, I just thought I could use another lazy day like this,” Neil answered. “If we manage to get out of bed, we could go ice skating or something silly like that.”

Chris stared at Neil, then grinned. “That's the right attitude! How about I check for flights and you start lunch?” He pulled his jumper over his head and wanted to dash from the room, but Neil stopped him by grabbing hold of his elbow.

“Just one more thing.”

“And that would be?”

“I love you, prat!”

Chris smiled and embraced Neil. “Love you, too.”


End file.
